And it was. When they purchased half of the Inn from Trenton’s uncle in the spring, the man returned the funds to them in his will, asking that each sibling use a portion to make the inn their own. Richard, Andie, and now Emmitt had found a way to do that. Emmitt had already secured the chopper and was storing it on a makeshift landing pad on Trenton’s property, but they’d need a storage garage for it come winter.
Memphis imagined how nice it would feel to put his own mark on the place.
“Well, I think we’ve covered enough ground for one meeting,” Trenton said as he came to a stand. “Remember, tomorrow night is the party and bonfire. Hope you’ll all come and help get the party started.”
“Definitely,” Emmitt said as he pushed his chair back. “Betty and I are going to light up the stage in some good old fashioned square dancing. Right, Betty?”
Betty chuckled as she came to a stand. “You’ve got that right.”
Maverick was on his feet as well. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He shot Memphis a glare as he draped an arm over Emmitt’s shoulder. As they headed toward the door, Memphis stepped around the table and moved toward Andie.
“Hey,” he said under his breath. “Would you make sure Ty knows about the party? With her parents staying here and all, they might like having her accompany them. And Lucas too.”
Andie held his gaze for a blink before nodding. “You’re right. I’ll let her know.” She gave his shoulder a bump and stepped back to grin at him. “Thanks for letting me do it. I mean, for not asking her yourself. I’d hate for Ty to feel pressure to date one of the owners. It could become a real dilemma.”
Memphis didn’t exactly see it that way, but he nodded his head anyway. “Sure.”
Yet as he stepped outside and headed toward the construction site where he planned to help out for a few hours, a new thought occurred to him. Ty had been the one to ask him out, so now it was his turn. If he failed to do so, she’d think he wasn’t interested. Of course, her parents were in town, so she could just assume he was giving her time to be with them. Which wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Betty had said Ty’s heart was a treasure better earned than stolen. That was Memphis’s typical approach by nature. But while Memphis took his time to do that very thing with Ty, Maverick might just swoop in and steal her heart just the same.
The tranquil music sounding over the massage suite did little to soothe Ty as she rubbed the tension from her mother’s neck. It was, of course, meant to soothe her clients, but she wasn’t sure there was much hope in that.
“That’s still too much pressure, dear,” Mom griped as Ty pressed along a tight tendon. “Go easy on me.”
“Sorry,” she said, feeling much more irritated than she should. Normally, Ty liked it when her clients spoke up and voiced their preference. But with someone as critical as her mother was in nearly everyotheraspect of her life, it felt more like a criticism than a preference.
She reached for the small lever and gave it a press until the table rose yet another inch. This way, she’d put less of her weight behind the pressure.
Ty took a moment to tuck a stray strand of her mother’s platinum hair into the knotted bun at the back of her head, and then worked to get back into a groove. She made long, fluid strokes down the side of her neck, using as little pressure as she could while still pressing partially into the tissue.
“That’s better,” she mumbled.
A soft smile pulled at Ty’s lips. There was no denying how much she liked to please or impress her. She reminded herself that her mother’s disposition was a result of her own upbringing. Of Grandma’s impossible expectations. Ty’s mom prided herself on coming a very long way, keeping only a sliver of her parent’s harsh nature, enough to encourage her children with tough love.
Perhaps it had worked with the others. They all seemed to be doing just fine. But with Ty… She refocused her attention as she moved one of her mother’s arms out from under the sheet and pumped a new shot of lotion into her palm. Yet as Ty smoothed the cream along her mom’s forearm, down her wrist, and over her aging hands, her thoughts drifted back to where they’d been.
It seemed that Mom became most critical of her when Eric left, which was odd; it was hardly Ty’s fault that her husband abandoned her and his unborn child. It seemed like nothing Ty did could please Mom at that point. It’s what compelled Ty to move to North Carolina after meeting Holly at the extended training. Not only had she felt an instant connection to the wise woman, she’d fallen in love with the descriptions of Holly’s home state, as she’d relayed several times over the course. It was the best move Ty could have made, gaining some independence, taking control of her own life. Preventing Lucas from seeing the unhealthy relationship between her and her mother.
Ty tucked her mom’s right arm back beneath the top sheet and moved to the left. This time, she allowed herself to do what she often did. To inwardly bless the person on her table. To bless their hardworking hands. Their sore muscles and tired bones. To bless whatever wounds lie in their heart. Whatever dilemmas clogged up their mind.
This was someone with significant hurts of her own. A woman who also carried the weight of never measuring up. Ty had shed most of her own, she knew that much. But it was visits like these that reminded her that she still had a long way to go.
“We had dinner with the Jenkins the other night,” her mother said, breaking into her musings.
Jenkins, as in, Eric Jenkins’ parents. “You did?” It came out in a squeak. Partially because she was surprised to hear it, and partially because she hoped Mom wouldn’t elaborate. “That’s nice.”Please don’t say anything more.
She tucked her left arm back beneath the sheet and moved to the shoulder blades.
“They’re doing better than ever. I wouldn’t be surprised if they own half of Boston by now.”
Ty resisted an eye roll. Why the great emphasis on how well the Jenkins were doing? Of course, she already knew the answer to that one. Mom practically worshiped the Jenkins.
“You know, Eric has started working for them again—ooh, ow, honey. No elbow, please.”
“It’s not my elbow, Mom, it’s my palm.” Though it did feel likeshe’djust gotten an elbow jab. Right to her gut. “I’ll go lighter,” she promised, but inwardly, Ty was fuming. How many times had she asked her mother to avoid talking about the Jenkins? She smoothed the side of her hand between her shoulder blades. This was one of the sweet spots. Something her clients were meant to really enjoy.
“You really do have a nice touch,” her mom said after a few quiet moments ticked by.
